


Again with the Monty Python References

by cofax



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, episode-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-13
Updated: 2010-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cofax/pseuds/cofax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>You did it again, didn't you?</i></p><p>Post-ep for "Origin" (Season 9).  Written for Brighid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Again with the Monty Python References

The door had barely closed when Daniel felt a hard hand close over his shoulder. "You son of a bitch." He twisted and wrenched, instinct reacting faster than it took his brain to process the familiar voice. Jack wasn't ready for that, seven years of training notwithstanding, and after a flurry of move and counter-move, they ended up chest-to-chest against the door of the front hall closet.

 

 

The irony of that wasn't lost on Daniel. The late evening light of summer filtered through the living room windows, softening all the edges in the apartment. But not the lines on Jack's face, the new scars from battles in briefing rooms and Congressional lobbies. Daniel hadn't seen him in six weeks. He looked tired and angry.

 

 

But not as tired as Daniel felt. "What is it now, Jack?" No "where you been?" He flexed a little, but Jack wasn't moving, and Daniel didn't feel like forcing the issue.

 

 

Jack didn't answer right away, just reached around unerringly and snapped on the kitchen light. Daniel blinked; Jack didn't step back. Instead he put a hand on Daniel's chin and turned his head, forcing it into the light, peering at Daniel's face, for all the world like a farmer examining livestock.

 

 

"Should I moo for your entertainment?"

 

 

But a muscle in Jack's jaw clenched, his hand closed, long fingers digging into the back of Daniel's neck. "You did it again, didn't you?" said Jack finally, grinding the words out, his face held in that still expression Daniel remembered from the old days, the bad days.

 

 

Oh. "Um, yeah, well. I didn't do it on _purpose--_" Daniel shrugged uncomfortably. Met Jack's eyes, looked away. There was beer in the fridge, if he could just get to it.

 

 

Jack's face eased a little bit; the death-grip on Daniel's neck softened. "You never do."

 

 

The apartment was stuffy, Jack's hand was warm, and Daniel let his head rest against the door frame behind him. He let his eyelids drop a little. "I got better," he offered, letting the exhaustion in his body creep into his voice.

 

 

"One day you won't," said Jack. But his voice was softer, his face close enough that Daniel could feel Jack's breath puff against his cheek. Hot breath, hot still air, and Jack was still in uniform: he must have been to the mountain and gone while Daniel was still in the infirmary.

 

 

"I always will," said Daniel, lying. He put a hand on Jack's neck, mirroring their positions, and leaned in, mouth meeting mouth. Closing the distance.

 

 

"Yeah, well," muttered Jack, much later, "did I have to hear it from _Mitchell_?"

 

 

END


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